Page 15 of Lethal Seduction

“You look hot, man,” I whisper to myself. “You’re always getting hit on by younger dudes.” How many people can say that? I feel myself stand a little taller and strut a little more when I walk. As I enter the first department store on my left, a really nice-looking gentleman bumps into me.

“Sorry,” we both say at the same time.

I smile.

He gives me the come-fuck-me eyes. We continue past each other, but it’s exactly what I need; to feel wanted.

9

PATRICK

"Itold you not to try that last dress on," I say before sucking down the last of my Diet Coke. We’ve been at this since she picked me up first thing this morning.

Tina stares at me, eyes welling with tears and mouth agape.

"What?" I plop two fries into my mouth and savor the greasy saltiness—it isn’t like I’m the one trying to fit into clothes made to fit the tiny little elves in Santa’s workshop. Tina has a rocking body, but she won’t try on clothes fit for an adult human being. There, I’ve said it—or thought it… to myself so only I can hear it.

"How can you eat at a time like this? I’m on the verge of a fucking meltdown here. I have exactly five weeks, three days—” she checks her watch, “—and eleven hours to find the perfect outfit to make all the losers I went to high school with jealous.

How she manages to do complicated math equations without so much as taking a breath during a meltdown is beyond me.

“I mean, it shouldn’t be hard,” she says. “Ninety-five percent of them haven’t ventured outside the same small town in the middle of Arkansas farm country. Patrick, the school system refuses to teach history or geography but forces three years of animal husbandry, for fuck’s sake."

Animal husbandry? I don’t have the foggiest idea what that means, but if the awful expression on her face is any indication, it wasn’t a good thing. Not by a longshot.

Trying to lighten the mood, I say, "So, you’re saying you don’t want to wear burlap or overalls?"

"I could smash your pretty little face into this table and never speak to you again."

"Aww, you said I was pretty," I say while perfectly framing my face with my hands.

Tina smiles. It worked. The spell is broken. My best friend has returned to reality where she can be rational for a solid five fucking minutes.

"You were right. I shouldn’t have tried that dress on… I mean who wears a low cut, black mini dress to a reunion in Hughes, Arkansas? And let’s be honest, that designer label said it was a size four, and we both know it couldn’t have been over a two or my name isn’t Tina Devereaux Brokaw." She slams her fist on the table. “I should ask my father to get involved in this travesty of justice.”

“Huh?”

“My father knows that high-priced attorney from the ACLU.” She flips her hair to the side. “You know… the one who refuses to wear anything but tailored pantsuits.”

Now isn’t the time to remind her she’s an athletic size six, not a two, and the dress is marked correctly. Tina is so cute, and I wish she saw in herself what I do, but Hollywood has done a number on her self-esteem and there isn’t an attorney alive that could sue their way into making her feel better about herself.

She needs her best friend to make her feel better.

"No judgement, but girl, you know that dress was made by a bunch of tiny little people in a far off land. They just slap a size on the clothing items and call it a day."

"You’re probably right."

Of course I am.I watch documentaries on streaming, and I’ve learned a lot about the many injustices that take place in our world. I was shook. Absolutely shook, to learn that not everyone living in Florida ate iguanas. Insta was wrong about that.

"Please, allow me to change the subject for a second," I say.

"Sounds good to me. What do you want to talk about? Yourself, I’m assuming."

"Normally, assuming I’m that narcissistic would hurt my feelings, but in this particular case… you are correct. I’ve been thinking about that guy who handed my wallet back at the coffee shop. You remember… the cute one with a patch of white on his beard?"

"Yeah, that guy was hot. Do you think he’d be into me?" Tina smiles and twirls a lock of her hair.

"Of course. If he’s straight. I’m not sure he is though… there was something about him that seemed like he might swing my way."

---